Page 16 of Bedrest Blues & Otherworldly Clues (Mystical Midlife in Maine #17)

S leep came in broken fragments after our confrontation with Lyra's storm. Every time I closed my eyes I tumbled into disjointed dreams that felt far too real. The triplets remained unusually quiet. Using that much magic had taken it out of them, too.

A strange calm settled over the house. There was an eerie stillness that felt like the eye of a hurricane. We all knew the respite from Lyra was temporary. Nobody wanted to be the first to acknowledge it.

"Your vitals are good," Clio said, breaking the silence as she finished her examination. "The babies' magical signatures have stabilized, though they're operating at a lower frequency than I'd like."

"They're exhausted," I replied, gently stroking my swollen belly. "They've never extended their power like that before."

"None of us has ever done anything like that before," she corrected with a wry smile. "What you four accomplished was unprecedented."

Pride swelled within me before doubt crept in. "But was it enough? Lyra retreated, but she's not defeated. "

"One battle at a time," Clio advised, packing away her supplies. "For now, focus on regaining your strength. All of you."

She had barely left when the first vision hit me. It was a waking nightmare that slammed into my consciousness like a freight train. My stomach roiled as images unfurled in my mind.

Blood-red moonlight filtered through ancient stone arches.

Massive obsidian bowls were positioned at precise intervals around a central altar.

Lyra carefully arranged objects in each bowl.

There were herbs, crystals, and something that pulsed with a sickly green glow.

I wanted to gauge her energy to see if we had set her back, but her face was half-hidden in shadow.

Pain lanced through my skull. It was white-hot and blinding. I gasped, clutching my temples as the vision intensified.

Hooded figures surrounded Lyra. Their faces were obscured, but their power was unmistakable.

They moved with fluid, inhuman grace. The largest bowl at the center remained empty.

It was waiting for something I didn’t want to think too much about.

Lyra's voice echoed as she chanted words that rippled with power.

"—Phoebe! Phoebe, can you hear me?" Aidon's voice dragged me back to reality. His face swam into focus. It was etched with concern.

"I had a vision," I managed while the pain still pulsed behind my eyes. "I saw Lyra preparing for the ritual."

His shadows darkened, coiling protectively around us. "The Ascension?"

Lifting a shoulder, I described what I'd seen. Each detail had seared itself into my memory, so it wasn’t hard to recount. I told him about the stone arches. The obsidian bowls. The hooded figures and the ingredients.

"She said something about convergence points," I added as I interpreted what she had chanted. The words tasted bitter on my tongue. "And that 'the Pleiades heart was the final vessel’."

Aidon's expression hardened. "Did you recognize the location?"

I shook my head, immediately regretting the movement as fresh pain stabbed through me. "No, but it felt old. I bet it predates human civilization."

He reached for his phone. "I'll have Hades search the Underworld archives. If this place exists, he'll find it."

As he stepped away to make the call, another wave of phantom pain washed over me.

This time it was different from the headache.

This one centered in my chest, as if something were trying to claw its way out from inside me.

The triplets responded with a protective surge that briefly alleviated the discomfort.

"Thanks, little ones," I whispered, pressing a hand to where I'd felt their magic gather.

Aidon returned with a furrowed brow. "Hades is checking. He says your description sounds familiar, but he needs more details."

"I don't have more," I said, frustration edging my voice. "It came and went in flashes."

"That's not necessarily true," Mom said from the doorway. She carried a steaming mug of tea and Hattie's grimoire tucked under her arm. "Your subconscious might have absorbed more than you realize."

She crossed to the bed and set the tea on my nightstand.

"There's a technique in here," she continued as she opened the grimoire to a bookmarked page, "for recovering hidden memories and visions.

Hattie used it when she first heard the warning about people trying to trick her into giving them her power. "

"Is it safe?" Aidon asked immediately.

Mom hesitated. "It's not without risks. The process involves deliberately reopening the psychic channels that allowed the vision in the first place."

"Which means giving Lyra another potential point of access," I concluded grimly.

"Yes, but it would be controlled this time. We'd be ready," Mom reassured me.

Jean-Marc appeared clutching ancient texts and looking disheveled. "I found something about the ritual Lyra is attempting."

"What is it?" I asked, wondering what more he could have possibly discovered.

He opened the topmost volume. "Based on what she has done, I don’t think she's using only one forbidden ritual. So far, she has combined elements for several. And she has crossed different species. Fae, shifter, witch, and the gods."

"That's impossible," Aidon objected. "Different magical systems are incompatible."

"They should be," Jean-Marc agreed, pointing to a passage. "This account from 1487 describes a necromancer who attempted something similar. He tried to merge Egyptian death magic with Celtic harvest rituals."

"What happened?" I asked.

"It was bad,” Jean Marc said, making a face. “The conflicting energies created a vortex that consumed everything within a fifty-mile radius."

Mom leaned forward. "That doesn't sound like Lyra's style. She wouldn't risk self-destruction."

"No," Jean-Marc agreed, "but she might have found a way around the compatibility issue." He showed another book. "This text mentions theoretical 'bridges' between different magical systems. Specific power sources that can stabilize incompatible energies."

"Like Pleiades magic," I realized.

He nodded. "Exactly. It's uniquely adaptive."

"And the triplets would represent that magic in its purest form," I concluded.

Aidon's power pulsed out of him in sharp waves. "She wants to use our children as magical conduits."

"Actually, she wants them as stabilizers before she takes all of their power in the Ascension," Jean-Marc corrected. "Think of it like supernatural rubber gloves for handling volatile materials."

I felt something brush against my mind. The triplets stirred uneasily. "Something's happening," I warned.

The brush became a push. That turned into a full assault as another vision crashed through my defenses. If I had been standing, I would have fallen over.

Lyra was standing before an ancient text.

She was tracing symbols identical to those that appeared on my stomach during pregnancy.

The images shifted, and suddenly there was a marble basin filled with dark liquid.

Lyra's reflection was in it. She had transformed.

Her eyes glowed. Her skin was translucent.

And veins of power were visible beneath the surface.

"The essence of nine made three," she whispered. "The perfect vessels. When combined, they'll unlock what has been sealed since the First War." Pain struck everywhere. It was bone-deep and savage. I couldn't breathe ? —

"MOM!" Jean-Marc's voice cut through the vision. The pain receded, leaving me gasping.

"She's bleeding," Aidon said, making me focus on him. I’d never heard panic like that from him.

I looked down and saw blood staining the sheets. My heart began racing as a vice closed around my chest. My babies could be in danger.

"It’s not the babies," Clio announced as her diagnostic magic spread through me. "The hemorrhaging is from her. The vision caused physical trauma."

Everyone began talking at once, and I couldn’t make any of it out. Finally, Nana's voice cut through the chaos. "Everyone out who isn't actively keeping her alive!"

The room cleared out except for Clio, Aidon, and Nana. My breathing steadied as Clio's healing magic soothed the damage. "What happened?" I managed.

"Lyra happened," Nana said. "That wasn't a vision. It was a direct attack disguised as one."

"The symbols I saw," I realized. "They're the same ones that appeared when each baby's magic manifested. She's created a connection using them."

"Smart bitch," Nana muttered. "She's using your own pregnancy against you."

"How did Jean-Marc break through her hold?” Aidon asked.

"I think it was his connection to you and the babies," Clio observed. "Blood calls to blood. I think Aidon would have been able to as well."

“He spoke before I could,” Aidon countered as his cheeks flushed. I could see he felt guilty when he didn’t need to.

Clio's brow furrowed as she thought about things. "These markings... I've seen similar ones in ancient codices. They're associated with sacrificial rituals that were once used for power transfers within bloodlines."

"What kind of sacrificial rituals?" I asked.

"The Codex Eximius described ceremonies where dying elders would voluntarily transfer their magic to younger family members," Clio explained.

"There were also Sumerian healing rites where parents would temporarily channel their life force to critically ill children.

The Athenaeum in Alexandria had scrolls documenting similar practices among Mediterranean magical communities. "

I nodded weakly, making Aidon's shadows pulse with relief. Nana's eyes narrowed. "Sounds like Lyra took that voluntary transfer ritual you mentioned and twisted it into something nasty. Typical of her to take something meant to heal and pervert it into a weapon."